


take me apart

by kurohaha



Category: Hyouka & Kotenbu Series
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, Snippets, basically a sinfic, oneshots, these two are so precious ok
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-23
Updated: 2016-09-23
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:21:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8116222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurohaha/pseuds/kurohaha
Summary: In which energy reserves are tampered with.





	

1\. キッス

 

 

 

 **E** quilibrium; his lips are neither rough nor soft. Calculated movements, a note of anxiety—and inexperienced as he is, (there is no doubt in her mind that _he is_ ), one thing baffles her to the core.

Oreki is not a bad kisser.

It's irritating. Awful, how someone so otherwise listless can draw her from the tips of her toes, can make her heart swell, _thud, thud, thud_ in her chest so intensely with but a single touch. She is fearful that he will hear it someday and know the level of attachment which hinges her to him. In foresight, she decides that it might not be a bad thing.

Needless to say, Mayaka is usually the instigator. Whether they're lounging indoors on a cold winter Sunday or caught under the canopy of cherry blossoms, she is the first to move. Cupping his face in her hands for something chaste, pushing fingernails into his shoulders for something urgent.

He can be exceedingly _shy_ , she's come to learn. Which is unprecedented when her own style of affection is bolder, abrupt. Maybe a little scary. Or so he puts it, griping into her nape on evenings that the quiver of electrons between them is preferable to empty air. The dummy.

Still, other times, Oreki surprises her.

Head inclined, mouth pressing upon her forehead or her nose―barely a second before he has turned away with roseate cheeks and tense shoulders and an expression of apathy so forced that she can't so much as suppress a grin in her knuckles.

"What?" He always sounds indignant when he asks.

One declaration is enough to rile him up, preceded with puckish laughter, and she is unable to contain the gasp of delight when he sweeps long, talented fingers in the curls of her chestnut hair and tips her gaze up to meet his. Chī-chan and Fuku-chan never fail to enter the club room at the most inopportune moments.


End file.
